The Rival
by Collie Parkillo
Summary: The drab, dark world he lived in was penetrated by one light. And he could not allow light to shine in his eyes, lest it blind him from his duties.  one-shot, rated K  for violence.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors. It is copyright Erin Hunter.**

**Author's Note: I wrote this after reading the poem "The Rival" by Thomas Hardy, and wanted to incorporate it in an Ivyfrost (Ivypool/Hawkfrost) story. And yes, I know "The Rival" is from a woman's perspective, but it could be from a man's too. Note: This fic has _no _fluff in it, it's more tragedy than romance, sure, it deals with love, but it's more about Dark Forest cats' perception of love. Oh, and the tenses are meant to switch around a bit, so that's intentional. **

**The Rival **

_I determined to find out whose it was -_  
><em>The portrait he looked at so, and sighed<em>

As Dark Forest cats went, Hawkfrost was a mild-mannered one. He did not have Tigerstar's unwavering, almost insane devotion to his cause, or Mapleshade's twisted mind. He was a middleman to these lunatics.

Ivypool had always been a weakness in him. She was so pure and innocent that she fascinated him, for she held something he had never been able to possess, he had been a mistake from the moment of his birth. Born of the unholy union of a rogue and a corrupt leader. Ivypool interested him, he wanted to preserve her and examine her forever. But, alas, his very job was to steal the innocence of young cats.

He couldn't help but wonder who it was she loved. She wasn't like Tigerheart, always talking softly to himself about a beautiful she-cat, if she did loves someone, it was a quiet affair and she kept it to herself.

Sometimes he caught her daydreaming, her mind floating away to some far off place. She probably did have someone who haunted her as she fought and wondered if the cause she fought for was just. He probably was a strong, good warrior. Beautiful, too. Just like her.

He would never tell her these thoughts he had, she would think him to be as insane, if not more, as his peers. She believed he was different because he treated her a bit softer than the others did, and he would like to keep her thinking that way.

Watching her innocence fade from her was a leisure activity to him, but he often had trouble keeping it at that, so he stopped himself from looking at her, should it become affection.

_Bitterly have I rued my meanness_  
><em>And wept for it since he died<em>

Hawkfrost never has had any problems with murder. Every murder he committed was just another event in his life, he never cares for what may happen to the victim afterwards, if he must kill, he will. That is what begins to happen in the Dark Forest, you becomes used to your own bloodlust, it doesn't necessarily become pleasant, but it becomes bearable. Definitely bearable. Because the reason he's there is because he is a murderer, is it not?

But Ivypool made things different. Hurting her was...difficult...he didn't want to ruin her perfect, innocent body. He didn't want to scar her, he could never explain why, but he wished to protect her from cats like Mapleshade, who would kill her without a second thought.

That's what he wanted to do to her. Kill her. It would be easier, that way, to just have her dead and gone and forgotten. She would be a Starclan cat, and would rest among her peers in the wonderful, soft, starry place he had never known. For she was good, unlike him, and had never known the rush of guilt and pride that came from killing. A feeling he'd grown to love.

Oh, love. Killing Ivypool would mean that he'd finally be free of the...thing...that he felt for her. He refused to call it love. He didn't love anyone. Oh, yes, he loved things, but not living ones. He never would love a living thing. Anytime he began to feel something like it, he would smother it.

_I searched his desk when he was away,_  
><em>And there was the likeness-yes, my own!<br>_Taken when I was the season's fairest,_  
><em>And time-lines all unknown<em> _

At that moment, Mapleshade spoke to him, her voice raspy and angry, as usual. "Have you seen that silly kit, Ivypool? She was having this long, confessional talk with Tigerheart, last I saw her, and I'd like to give her a good talking to to see that she doesn't become soft."

"No, I'm afraid not." He speaks back to her in a respectful tone, because he's quite afraid of her, though he'd never tell anyone.

"Well, if you see her, tell her I'd like to speak to her." Just as Mapleshade's thin, bony frame began to disappear into the mist of the Dark Forest, he felt the need to ask her a question.

"What exactly was she confessing?"

Mapleshade laughed, a hoarse, ragged sound. "Oh, you. She was confessing something utterly stupid, how she felt about you. She feels something that isn't allowed, she loves you." She paused here, as though waiting for him to laugh.

But usually mature, usually in control Hawkfrost just stared at Mapleshade with an expression of confused awe. "Oh." was the only thing he could choke out. It was impossible, truly impossible. She returned what he told himself not to feel!

"Surprising, eh?" Mapleshade laughed again. "Now go make yourself useful, Hawkfrost." He sighed, and began pacing around in circles. He had to take out all this confusion on the ground, each heavy pawstep he took smashed another affectionate thought towards the young, innocent, beautiful, perfect, wonderful being called Ivypool.

She was confusing. Confusing things had to be destroyed, so they would not distract him.

_I smiled at my image, and put it back,_  
><em>And he went on cherishing it, until<em>

He walked through the tall, dark trees, looking for her. He had to find her. Train her, like a student, put himself back into reality that she was only another cat, a silly little one who needed discipline.

He found her, alone. She was staring down at her paws, her small, white paws that were beautiful, just like every other part of her. He growled under his breath, he needed to stop this frivolous thinking. "Ivypool?"

"Yes?" Her face was frozen in a glare for a moment, but it turned to a silent, sad expression when she noticed that it was him.

"I thought we ought to work on the fighting moves we learned last night. We've only got a few hours left, you know." He spoke the words gruffly, as though they meant nothing. True lovers pick their words carefully, do they not? He is not in love with Ivypool, even though she may be in love with him.

They begin circling each other. It is all he can do not to leap at her and rip her throat out. Later, he thinks. Later, I will be rid of her. For now, I must bear her presence.

He stares into her eyes, deep green circles that reflect everything she's ever known. If he were able to, he would smack himself for thinking such stupid, flowery things about one of his pupils. She propels herself at him, using her back legs, and lands him flat on the ground. He rolls out of her grasp, slashing at her sides, and she manages to get a few scratches in here and there. It's a good, satisfying fight, and one that he had needed.

They both stood, panting, and watching each other. Not as lovers, staring adoringly, but as opponents, scanning each other's bodies for any weakness. He couldn't find any without thinking of idiotic purple prose to describe her. He would not love her, he would not love her. Ever.

_I was chafed that he loved not the me then living,_  
><em>But that past woman still.<em>

Days passed, and nary a breath was taken by Hawkfrost without a thought of Ivypool. When would he kill her, what would he do afterwards, did she really love him? Questions spun around his head like bees, buzzing in his ears. Finally, he could bear it no longer. Tonight. Tonight was when he would end his suffering.

"Ivypool, train with Hawkfrost," ordered Tigerstar, growling at both of them.

Hawkfrost devised a plan to kill her. He would make her happy, then he would kill her. Pretend to love her, just for a moment let out the feelings that he'd been trapping inside him. "Let's go somewhere more private, I have things to say to you, Ivypool." She looked at him, wide-eyed, as he led her away into the trees.

"Ivypool, this is not hard to say, for it is the truth. I love you." The words were false, of course. Or were they?

"I...I...I do too, Hawkfrost. I truly can't believe that you feel the same, I figured that you would kill me." He almost felt sad at that remark, because she was absolutely right.

"Well, I do." Now. He nuzzled her neck, feeling her bury herself in his fur. Ah, she was just in a vulnerable position. He imagined that she felt safe, and secure with him. Good, so she wouldn't move. He felt her breaths, slow and comfortable, her chest rising and falling as they stood there.

He would kill her now. While she was happy. He closed his jaws around her neck, biting down hard, and heard her screech a long, final scream of pain, and then fall completely silent. She went limp on top of him, her heartbeat completely stopped. She fell to the ground as he shrugged her off of his body.

Dead. She was dead. Gone. Goodbye, forever. Suddenly, he was horrified at himself. But at the same time, he was very happy. Happy that she was not in a position to be worried about. Happy that she was in another realm, a heavenly place. Without him. She would be happier there than on earth, he thought.

He didn't rip her apart, as he'd planned to. She looked so serene and happy, lying there dead. He wanted to keep her that way. Then, allowing himself one last burst of emotion, he nuzzled her.

"I hope you're happy."

_Well, such was my jealousy at last,_  
><em>I destroyed that face of the former me<em>

She was gone. No more haunting thoughts, no sad smiles. There was not even a trace of her left among them, they'd just assumed that she'd been too weak against Hawkfrost, like Antpelt had been. Hawkfrost wasn't sorrowful about it, he didn't even think about it.

Perhaps he hadn't really loved her. He'd only been interested. Interested in what the feelings directed at her might feel like, if he were to let them blossom. Now he knew, and he was smarter than to allow himself to love someone. It wasn't a special feeling, anyways.

As he trained other cats for the war, willing cats, who followed his every order, he realized that there would never be another cat like Ivypool, who he'd killed while she was sleeping, really, he expected that the clan had found her corpse in the den, asleep, with her neck broken. He'd never find someone who he felt that sort of kinship with.

Perhaps it was kinship. Not love. They were both forgotten siblings, and maybe he had wanted to empathize with her, to be friends, not lovers.

Those last words he spoke to her hadn't been contemptuous, as they sounded, but rather a hopeful goodbye. Something that the brown tom didn't know how to say.

He smiled to himself, thinking of his training sessions with Ivypool. It'd been fun, testing her, teaching her. She'd been his favorite one to train with. Now, don't mistake that for love, it was only the favoritism of a teacher to his student. He decided that he'd never loved her, only believed he had. This was the first time he'd thought of her in awhile. He wondered what she was doing in Starclan. Was she happy?

Then he smiled. He'd been stupid, and he wouldn't make the same mistake again. It was better to remain a Dark Forest cat than to love and be broken.

_Could you ever have dreamed the heart of woman_  
><em>Would work so foolishly?<em>

**Hope you enjoyed, I know the ending with her death was a little unexpected, but I wanted to write a _realistic _Ivyfrost fic. This is probably how they'd turn out if they ever did feel something akin to love for each other. Or at least I think so.**_  
><em>


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